Hyung!
by kbdizzle
Summary: Alec and Jong have been life long friends, so close that their practically brothers. Now that Jong is dead, Alec must find a way to move on and he would if Jong wasn't hell bent on bugging him, even from the grave. Now Alec has to find a way to revenge his brother's death and jong has to make sure what happened to him doesn't happen to Alec. Besides Alec still needs to fall in love


Author's note: So here it is my forth story so far, I hope it become just as popular as the other ones, tell if you like, hate it, feel ok about it. I love instructive criticism so feel free to give it me. If your new to me, check out my other stories. If you're not new enjoy another Alec fic. Yes this will become a boys love story if you don't like it, don't read it. Thanks for reading, don't forget to review please and thank you. I can't promise the next time I'll write, but if the reviews are good then I'll write sooner rather than later. Peace out homai's 안녕히 가세요! Kbdizzle

1,2,3 it was just like that. It happened in a matter of three seconds. There I was and there he was and there THEY were and then he was gone, as if by magic. Or better yet he himself was not gone for there was his body, lifeless on the ground in front of me. Dear god, I thought dear god. He's dead, he's really dead I killed him, I killed my brother. Of course he wasn't actually my brother, by no means was I and he related. But the connection we had formed over the years was deeper than just friends, but too light for lovers. Lovers… that reminds me of him; the other him, most commonly known as Magnus. However there was no time to think of him, I could only think of this boy, this child that lay dead in front of me, having been hit by the back end of THEIR car.

2 DAYS LATER

I always thought the color black suited me, but it looked even better on him. His face shockingly pale against the red satin that lined his casket. He looked like something out of storybook, far too beautiful to be real. 16, I thought, he was only 16 when he died. Damn, I would've cried then but that like he always said, crying is for babies and poor people, so no, I didn't cry. No, I wouldn't cry until many months later when he appeared in front of me again. The funeral was small and quiet, exactly the way he wouldn't have wanted it. He had always been loud and annoying and adorable and stupid. He always wanted someone to make a fuss over him, but more importantly he had always wanted that person to be me. I felt sick. ; Wehad laid him to rest in that small little garden that he had always loved, if you walked about 4 feet and took a left there was a stone path that lead directly to an edge of cliff that looked out onto a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean. This was his favorite place, it was also mine. For a moment, just a moment, I considered jumping but I didn't, because suicide is only something ugly and poor people do… according to him, according to him dying is for idiots, well guess what Jong… you're the idiot.

8 months later

Today was one of those days where I felt like squishing a puppy. That godforsaken alarm clock! I hated that stupid Spiderman alarm clock the day Jong brought into the house. Dear god every time I got up to turn it off he would start hysterically laughing as if he had never been to sleep at all. In fact in the back of mind I could almost hear him laughing. It sounded so real. Of course it wasn't. I got up and made some coffee, right about now Jong would in a half assed attempt pull himself out of bed and then there on in, the rest of the day would be a complete nightmare. Jong had this way about him that made me feel as though he just tripped through life and in a way he sort of did. He was always tripping and laughing at himself. Shit! I don't remember turning the knob on the shower this high. I almost laughed to myself maybe Jong was teasing me from the grave. Something as childish as this was a signature prank for him. Shit I left my clothes in the bedroom. I rounded the corner, and nearly jumped out of my skin. There sitting on my bed as if he had never been hit by a car, was my brother. He looked at me and I looked at him and we looked at each other. And then in what I would have liked to say was a manly scream of terror, I started beating him… with a lamp. He fended me off like I was air.

"Yah! Is that really how you're going to treat me?"

"Shit I'm going crazy."

"Hmm no not quite but it has been said that adorableness makes them boys go loco."

Oh god that was such a gay thing to say, that was such a Jong thing to say.

"Yah, Jong"

"Yes"

"Am I dead?"

"Nope"

"Are you dead"

"Yup"

"So I'm talking to your ghost"

"I wouldn't say ghost, see as of right now I'm in that awkward transitional phase of dying… kinda like puberty!"

"Well… that's lovely"

"Isn't it? Look bro number one, put some clothes on, your ass ain't cute and two, we need to talk"

"About what"

Fuck it; if I'm going crazy then there is nothing I can do about it now. I'd go along with anything this kid asked of me, I mean I did kill him, well I myself did not do the killing, but it's still my fault. Not like I'd ever tell him that, because confessing your sins were only things hobos and cross-dresses do.

"About …why you killed me."

Well… shit…


End file.
